The Price of Betrayal
by Alsas1975
Summary: Voldemort has always wanted to kill him, and the support of magical Britain has been inconsistent at best. What happens when Harry learns that some of those closest to him are not what they seem? Harry Potter one-shot. H/HG. Rated M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. I've just borrowed it for a little while and I promise to put it back when I'm done.**

AN: This is my first posted fanfic! I've been reading a lot of excellent Harry Potter fics here on FFN (way too many to count!) and if you see anything in here that resembles your own idea, then chances are that I saw it in your story and it made a positive impression. I apologize in advance that I don't remember you specifically, but I thank you for your own input into this forum and for a tale well-told.

As Harry Potter is a British work, I decided to use British English instead of my own American English when I wrote this. I'm pretty sure that the spelling is consistent, but as I have never lived there nor do I know any native Britons personally, the idioms and word usage may be off somewhat. If anyone, especially our friends across the pond, has any suggestions on how I can improve my British English, then by all means let me know! Constructive feedback on any aspect of the story, of course, is always welcome too.

And now, without further ado, **The Price of Betrayal.**

 **-TPOB-**

Pain wracked her body as she lay on the cold stones of the remote hallway. She couldn't think of anywhere she didn't hurt, and she felt it probable that she had at least a dozen broken bones, from ribs to wrists and arms, to legs, knees, and feet, even her face. The physical attack was the most vicious she'd ever suffered, but the agony of the betrayal of one of her two closest friends stabbed her to her very soul. She would never have thought in a million years that he could attack her so savagely, to say nothing of what he had conspired to do – and done – at the behest of their esteemed Headmaster. It was sheer happenstance that she'd overheard that conversation at all. And when she'd confronted her so-called "boyfriend" about it, the look of rage and panic that flashed across his face surprised her almost as much as the _reducto_ curse that nailed her right in the face. He kept growling the same curse at her over and over again – she'd lost count how many times he said it – leaving her a broken, bruised, and bloody mess on the floor.

Fortunately, he'd always been a piss-poor excuse for a wizard.

His curses were pitifully underpowered, which frankly was the only reason she was still breathing. If, gods forbid, her _other_ best friend had been the one to cast the curses on her, the first one would likely have exploded her head rather than just break her nose.

As it stood, she wasn't sure she'd make it anyway.

"Dob…Dobby," she whispered. "Help…"

A soft _pop_ signalled the small elf's arrival. "Oh no!" he wailed as he took in her broken form and rushed to her side. His large, floppy ears drooped as he wrung his hands. "What happened to Master Harry Potter Sir's Missy Grangy?" he cried. "Dobby be's getting Missy Grangy to the infirmary right away!"

"No!" she commanded, a spray of blood accompanying her words. "It...it's not safe there. Take me…to my home, Dobby…and bring H…Harry to me…as soon as you can…" Her head fell back to the stone floor as she struggled to stay awake. "And don't…don't tell anyone else..."

 **-TPOB-**

Harry Potter sat by his best friend's bedside, holding her cold hand in his own as the goblin healer finished up his work. "It's a very good thing you called for us when you did, Master Potter," the goblin said. "She will make a full recovery, but she must drink these potions daily at the prescribed times."

When Harry had asked Dobby who the best non-human healers were, the subdued house elf recommended the goblins. Not wanting to leave Hermione's bedside, Harry asked if Dobby could summon them and learned that the best way for the elf to get the goblins' attention was for Dobby to become an official Potter elf. Desperate to have a healer come to see his best friend as soon as possible, he immediately accepted the bond. Despite the circumstances, Dobby was almost bursting with pride to be an official Potter elf at long last, and with exclamations of Harry's grandeur disappeared to Gringotts, returning a short time later with Bonecrusher, one of the goblins' top healers.

"I'll make sure she does," Harry said, his voice dull. "Whatever she needs, do it and bill my vault. I don't know what's going on, but Dobby said that she told him that Hogwarts is not safe. If you could make arrangements to put up the best goblin wards around the house here I'll gladly pay for any and all expenses, including appropriate bonuses for expedited work."

"It's not my department, but I will make the necessary arrangements," Bonecrusher replied.

"Thank you," Harry replied, his eyes never leaving his bushy-haired, brown-eyed best friend. His world had come to a screeching halt when Dobby had appeared earlier that afternoon and told him that Hermione was in trouble. This year had been unusually difficult for them so far. He'd found himself fighting more and more with Hermione, over rather stupid things, really, and he never could figure out why he found himself at odds with her so much. It really didn't make sense to him, and he missed her terribly. He'd give anything at all to have their relationship back to where it was last year. Despite the fact that he was dating Ginny Weasley, he felt a level of closeness and intimacy with Hermione Granger that he'd never shared with anyone else. He couldn't fully explain his feelings either – Hermione had started dating their other best friend Ron, Ginny's brother, over the summer holidays. It surprised him, to be perfectly honest, given the way that they always fought, but so long as she was happy he didn't want to say anything about it, especially since it would most likely lead to yet another pointless argument.

"Who could do this to our daughter?" Hermione's parents, Dan and Emma, stood in the room's doorway holding on to each other as if for dear life. Emma had finally been able to bring herself to speak, but silent sobs still shook her frame.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if it was Draco Malfoy or one of the other Slytherins though."

The healer spoke up. "I should let you know that there were some other issues that my scan revealed," he said. "A memory charm has been performed on her sometime during the last year, and there is also evidence of several moderately strong potions in her system, including love, loyalty, and an aversion potion as well."

Harry's eyes darted immediately to the goblin. "Excuse me?" he whispered, his voice deadly.

"She has been dosed with love, loyalty, and aversion potions, in addition to having a memory charm cast on her. I have taken the liberty of removing the memory charm, and the potion to purge the others has been added to her healing regimen. Those, fortunately, will only need one more day to complete the purge."

"Indeed." His mind was whirling with the implications as he felt a painful knot settle in his stomach. "And is there any way to find out just who these potions are keyed to?"

"Not without taking tissue samples of everyone she knows, I'm afraid," the healer replied. "Although you could look for sudden changes in her behaviour that may seem abnormal. Does she perchance have a boyfriend?"

"Ron Weasley," he whispered.

"And how long have they been together?"

"Since the summer holiday."

"Then it is almost certain that he is the one the love potion is keyed to. She would be actively seeking a relationship with whomever that person is, and if she is not seeking out anyone else then it remains that it is this Master Weasley."

Ron. Their best friend. Why would he do this to her? "What about the loyalty potion?"

"Is there anyone that she seems abnormally loyal to?"

Harry laughed, though it was devoid of humour. "Hermione is the single most loyal person I know," he said. "She would have excelled in Hufflepuff, but her courage outmatches all of her other traits. It could be Dumbledore, Ron, Ginny, any of the Weasleys, any of the professors. Hell, it could be me for all we know, though with all the bickering we've done this year I don't see how that would be possible." A sudden thought chilled him. "Could you test and see if the aversion potion is keyed to me?"

"By all means." The goblin gave him a small potion to drink, and once he had done so cast a spell on the two teens. After studying the incomprehensible display that appeared between them, the healer nodded. "It is indeed," he confirmed.

"Fuck." Harry closed his eyes as rage threatened to overwhelm him. It wouldn't do to blow his top here, not in front of Hermione's parents, not when his best friend needed him at his best. "Would you mind scanning me for potions and memory charms as well, if you please?"

"Certainly." Bonecrusher cast his diagnostic spell and again studied the results. "Master Potter, I regret to inform you that you have indeed been dosed with the same potions, and there has been a memory charm cast on you as well, roughly the same time as the one cast on Miss Granger. I presume you want them all removed?"

"Absolutely." The symmetry of their two situations was damning. He'd bet anything that the love potion in his own system was keyed to Ginny, and the aversion potion was keyed to Hermione. Someone was trying to keep him away from Hermione, and was stooping to disgusting levels to do so. The only questions were who and why.

The goblin cast a series of spells at Harry, and a previously unknown part of his memories suddenly became unblocked. Tears of shock and fury trickled down his cheeks as he recalled the beautiful aftermath of one of the most awful nights of his life. _How could they? How could they possibly take away something so wonderful, not just for me but for both of us?_

At the end of the previous school year, after the nightmare at the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Mysteries, after he had witnessed his beloved godfather Sirius Black fall through the Veil and end all hope of having any kind of normal childhood, after Dumbledore shared that _fucking_ prophecy with him, he had met Hermione after she was released from the infirmary. Neither one of them had felt like attending classes, so they hid under Harry's invisibility cloak and, hand in hand, made their way to the seventh floor and the Room of Requirement.

 **-TPOB-**

 _Once inside the Room of Requirement, Harry immediately tried to apologize for ignoring her warning that the vision he'd received from Voldemort was possibly a trap, and especially for almost getting her killed, but she would have none of it. "It's not your fault, Harry," she said. "This whole mess is Voldemort's fault, not yours. He's the one being a problem, not you. You're my best friend, you know. I'd follow you into the pit of Hell, because you'd never get back without me." Her hand stroked his tear-stained cheek. "I can't lose you, Harry. You're too important to me."_

 _He reached up and grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips as his piercing green eyes locked on to her chocolate-brown eyes. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered._

 _Her breath came out in a short gasp as he said the words she'd longed to hear ever since he'd rescued her from the troll in their first year at Hogwarts. Tears of joy ran down her cheeks as her face lit up in the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "I love you too!" Mindful of her still-recovering injuries, she flung herself into his arms and pressed her lips to his._

 _As their tongues duelled, the nightmares they'd both lived through over the past five years began to fade away. Their mutual love for each other, though long denied, had nonetheless grown to an overwhelming state over the years. The horror was still there, but they had survived together, and only together had they survived. Together they could keep the nightmares away from each other._

 _Their kisses grew in passion, and when they finally broke apart they could both see the hunger and desire in each other's eyes. They looked around for a moment and noticed that the room, seemingly knowing what its occupants needed, had caused the door into the hall to disappear completely. In addition, a luxurious bed had appeared in the middle of the room, illuminated by soft lights._

 _Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the bed and back again to Harry, her eyes wide. Without saying a word, he took her hand in his own, his eyes promising never to hurt her or force her into anything she did not want. She gave him a shy smile and stepped towards the bed, gently pulling him with her. "Stay with me tonight," she whispered. "There's been too much blood and death. I want to remember something beautiful and pure, and I want it to be you. I trust you like no other, and I love you like no other."_

 _He joined her and together they climbed into the bed. Their clothing was soon discarded as they explored each other's bodies, revelling in the joy they had found with each other. They made love several times that day, laughing at their first awkward attempts together as neither had done more than kiss anyone before. For a day and a night they were able to push back the darkness and find true happiness with each other, finally falling asleep in each other's arms. For the first time in ages, Harry was able to sleep through the night without suffering any nightmares, and Hermione felt content, loved, and accepted like she'd never dared to dream of before._

 _Soon after they left the room the following morning, after another leisurely interlude of lovemaking and intimate conversation, Harry was summoned to the Headmaster's office. The usual twinkle was absent from Dumbledore's eyes this morning. "Harry, my lad, I must inquire as to the status of your relationship with Miss Granger," he said without preamble._

 _Harry blinked. "If you really must know, sir, she is my girlfriend. We've grown closer every year, and we finally admitted our true feelings for each other."_

 _"And what are your long-term plans?"_

That _was none of Dumbledore's business. Their plans were their own, but Harry knew that he had to placate the Headmaster. "Honestly, we're too young to be thinking of such right now. But at the same time, I could see myself marrying her one day," he said with a smile._

 _The old man nodded sadly. "I was afraid of that," he said. "Harry, you must understand that many of the light-aligned pure-blood families were all but wiped out during the war. Any one of them with young heiresses would do well with an alliance with the Potters, like the Bones, the Weasleys, or the Lovegoods. It would not be well-received were the last heir of the Potters to wed a muggle-born witch, you see. Not with so many eligible pure-blood witches to choose from. Miss Weasley would make a fine wife for you, for example, and you're already practically a part of the family. For the greater good of our world, I must insist that you end your relationship with Miss Granger before it grows any deeper."_

 _Stunned, Harry met Dumbledore's gaze before anger flashed across his face. "With all due respect, sir, I don't see that it's any of their business who I wed, or yours either for that matter. Who are you to try to force me to love this person and not that person? It is not your decision. And if that is quite all, I will be going."_

 _As Harry turned to leave, Dumbledore cast a spell, freezing him in place. "I really am sorry, my boy, but I cannot allow you to go this way. There is just too much at stake right now, and it really is best that you not remember Miss Granger in this manner. Don't worry, I will make sure that she winds up with an appropriate young man, and that you will wind up with an equally appropriate young lady. It really is in the best interests of you both, and I'm sure that you will one day look back and agree."_

 **-TPOB-**

"Not likely, you old bastard," Harry growled as he remembered the conversation before Dumbledore proceeded with his memory charm. He felt his world crumbling out from under him, with the battered, unconscious witch lying on the bed beside him being the only solid ground left to him.

"The memory charm is removed," Bonecrusher said, deliberately ignoring Harry's response. "You'll need a purging potion as well." He offered the young man a flask containing the appropriate solution, which Harry promptly drank. "There are two more potions you'll need to complete the purge, both of which need to be taken tomorrow, one in the morning and the other in the evening, just the same as Hermione."

"When will she wake up?" Dan wanted to know.

"As soon as tomorrow morning," Bonecrusher responded. "The bulk of her injuries will be well on their way to being healed by then, but the healing process takes a toll on the magical core. She will likely feel exhausted and should not perform any magic at all for the next two or three days while her core recharges."

Dan Granger let out the breath he was holding, the relief evident in his eyes. "In that case, why don't we get some sleep? We can find out who did this when Hermione wakes up."

Harry looked up. "If you don't mind, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I'd like to keep watch here. If she wakes up in the middle of the night it might be better if she isn't alone."

Her parents nodded their agreement and retired to their own bedroom. Bonecrusher took his leave at the same time, assuring Harry that he would make sure a warding team would be along before morning. "Please make sure that they are all goblins," Harry requested. "I don't know that any humans can be trusted."

"It will be as you say," the goblin confirmed with a bow. "A pleasure doing business with you, Master Potter. May your gold multiply and your enemies grovel at your feet."

"Likewise," Harry responded. "And please add a fifteen percent bonus to your fee, drafted to my vault. I am good for any other expenses you may accrue, just please make sure Hermione gets the very best care available."

"Your generosity is duly noted," Bonecrusher said with a close-mouthed smile. "I eagerly await the day you attain your age of majority and are fully empowered to do business with us as Lord Potter-Black."

"I beg your pardon?" Harry said, confused. " _Lord_ Potter? Potter- _Black_?"

The smile disappeared from the goblin's face. "You do not know of your inheritance?"

"What inheritance?"

Bonecrusher cursed in his own language.

 _That actually sounds scarier than German_ , Harry absently observed. "What's the matter?"

"My apologies, Master Potter. It would seem that your magical guardian has been severely remiss in your instruction and tutelage, to say nothing of your finances. I am afraid that it is not my place to explain about these things, but rest assured that I will make certain that the appropriate Gringotts personnel are notified post-haste. We will make sure that this gross negligence is corrected, and appropriate measures will be taken regarding any and all guilty parties. For now, please rest and focus on your loved one."

Harry nodded. "Thanks again, Bonecrusher." With that, the goblin disappeared back to Gringotts and Harry settled back down into the chair at Hermione's bedside. Taking her cold hand in his own, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I remember us, my love. Come back to me soon, please."

Dobby appeared and joined Harry in his silent vigil as the rest of the Granger household slept.

 **-TPOB-**

 _Hermione froze as she heard Ron's raised voice around the corner. Her arithmancy class had ended early and she wanted to spend some time with her boyfriend, who didn't have any classes this afternoon._

" _Professor, the potions aren't working!" she heard him exclaim. "Hermione should be all over me after this long, but she won't even give me a good long kiss! All we do is hold hands, hug, and a peck on the lips at the end of the day! That slag put out for Potter, why not me?"_

 _Tears ran down her cheeks as she gasped in horror. What the hell was Ron talking about? Had he been using potions on her all this time? And he really thought that she was some kind of harlot? And Harry? She'd never been intimate with Harry…right? Not that she remembered…was Harry in on it too?_

" _Ron, my boy, I'm afraid that you and your sister will have to be patient," she heard Dumbledore –_ Dumbledore! – _say. "Love potions do not work so well on strong-willed people, and you must admit that no two students have stronger wills than Harry and Hermione."_

 _So Harry was an innocent in this. That actually made her feel a lot better, but this entire conversation was destroying her faith in authority figures as well as friends. Could she really trust anyone else? There were some others that she might be able to, but given that one of her best friends and the chief authority figure at Hogwarts were conspiring against her and her other best friend, she suddenly found her beloved school to be a very lonely place indeed._

" _It will simply take more time," Dumbledore continued._

" _Why don't we up the dosage?" Ron interrupted. "Same with the aversion potions. The amount we've been giving them should be enough to make them attack each other on sight, but all they do is argue every once in a while."_

" _The doses are already at maximum strength. Any more could be fatal. Would you really risk seeing our world destroyed because the primary weapon against the Dark Lord is dead?"_

" _No, I guess not," Ron muttered._

" _After he defeats Voldemort, or Voldemort defeats him, it won't matter anymore," Dumbledore placated. "Most likely Voldemort will defeat young Harry, fulfilling the prophesy, and making him vulnerable. When Voldemort is no longer protected by prophesy, anyone could defeat him – maybe even you, Ron."_

 _Hermione sank to the floor in an alcove, hugging her knees to her chest and silently weeping. They were nothing but pawns to the great Albus Dumbledore – especially Harry. She heard them end the conversation and walk off, Dumbledore disappearing down the other corridor. As Ron turned the corner and came her way, she stood up and stepped out of the alcove._

" _You bastard," she hissed as she slapped him hard across the face. "How could you do this to us?"_

 _He stood there gaping for a moment before his wand came up and his first curse flew._

 **-TPOB-**

She slowly opened her eyes, wincing as the aches and pains of her ordeal swept over her. Her hand tightened involuntarily around someone else's and she turned her head to see who it was. She recognized the messy black hair and brilliant green eyes of her very best friend just as he noticed her movements and fully awakened from his own slumber.

"Hermione!" he whispered, relief written across his face.

Her eyes closed and her lips curved upwards in a relaxed smile as all the tension seemed to evaporate from her body. "Harry," she breathed. "You're here."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he said as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "How are you feeling?"

Her laugh was bitter. "Alive," she said. "If I was dead it wouldn't hurt so much." Harry knew that she was not referring to her physical injuries.

"How…how much do you remember?" he asked, worry in his eyes.

She opened her eyes and gave him a look filled with undying love. "I remember enough," she said. "Especially our…night together." She reached up and touched his cheek, tears suddenly filling her eyes. "I can't believe those bastards tried to take that away from us," she wept. "After that, it's all so hazy. Ron…I thought I loved him, but something just didn't feel right. I know he wanted to go all the way, and part of me wanted to if I must be honest, but I couldn't bring myself to do more than share a kiss with him. I totally understand if you don't want me anymore…"

"None of that," Harry said as he placed his finger across her lips. "I pledged myself to you and you to me. We were both drugged up on potions that affected our reason, not to mention the memory charms that blocked our memories of our night together. We were both victimized, Hermione. It was not your fault, it was not my fault. The blame lies solely on the shoulders of Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, and Albus fucking Dumbledore. Our _friends_ ," he spat. "Well, fuck them. Whatever their games are, I'm done with them. Will you come with me?" he asked.

"Of course I will," she said, smiling again. Normally she would say something about his language, but with the rancid taste of betrayal in her mouth his profanity all of a sudden seemed irrelevant. "I love you, my Harry. I will follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond if I need to. Besides," she said in a coy tone of voice, "who's going to keep you out of the trouble that seems to follow you around if I'm not there?"

Harry reached out and caressed her cheek. "I love you too, Mia," he whispered. "I've missed you so damn much."

"Me too," she replied.

Unable to resist any longer, he leaned down and kissed her. As their lips met, she moaned and opened her mouth, inviting his tongue inside as she slid her arms up and around him. Careful to not aggravate her injuries, Harry continued to stroke her cheek with his thumb as the months of suppressed desire for each other finally gave way.

They pulled away and gazed at each other, lost in the depths of each other's eyes. "I want you," Hermione whispered, her voice filled with barely restrained passion.

"I want you too," Harry replied in kind. "As soon as you've recovered, though. Okay?"

She eagerly nodded with a smile on her face like she was coming home again after a long, difficult journey. "I can't wait!" She pulled him back down to her for another searing kiss.

They were interrupted by the sound of someone's throat clearing behind them. "While I have no doubt the two of you are quite happy to see each other," Emma Granger's voice dryly observed, "such behaviour is not normally considered part of a standard recovery routine."

Though furiously blushing, the teens were nevertheless careful as they gently separated from each other. "Hello, Mum," Hermione said. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Yes, I could tell how eager you were," Emma teased.

Dan, who was standing behind his wife, gave Harry an appraising look but didn't make a scene. Despite seeing his little girl intimately kissing this young man, he knew there were much bigger things going on than her love life. His heart broke every time he saw the mass of bruises and contusions on her face, arms, and legs, and he suspected that the rest of her body fared little better. "It's good to see you awake, sweetheart," he said as he walked over to her bedside with Emma. Harry respectfully made room, though the boy did not drop her hand. "I know you've just woken up," he continued as he leaned over and kissed her forehead, "but we have a lot to talk about, and we have some big decisions to make."

 **-TPOB-**

Over the next two days, much was discussed between the four. The conversations were interrupted on the first day after Hermione awoke by the goblin warders, and again when a team came to talk about Harry's inheritances. His discussion with the Grangers took a much different tone after that as they suddenly had new options available to them.

As the sole surviving Potter, as stipulated in his father's will, Harry was legally emancipated so that he could claim his Lordship. As a result of his emancipation, he was also able to claim the Lordship of House Black. As Lord Potter-Black, he found himself the new owner of properties all over the world, including an Unplottable island in the Bahamas from the Black family's rum-smuggling days. With the combined fortunes of both families, he also found himself to be the single wealthiest wizard in all of Britain, and his personal library was more extensive than that of Hogwarts, much to Hermione's glee. The broad investments made in both the magical and mundane world ensured that he would never have to work a day in his life and could therefore pursue what truly interested him. Understanding the depths that all the different factions would sink to in order to control the financial and political power he suddenly found at his disposal, including those that he once called friends, Harry decided to enter a formal alliance with the goblins in order to safeguard his assets. They had also shown themselves to be the one faction that dealt with him honourably, which certainly influenced his decision.

The senior Grangers held deep misgivings about sending their daughter back to that world, and despite Hermione's protests Harry agreed with them, incidentally raising Dan's opinion of him even more. "In fact," Harry said, "if we can figure it out I'd prefer to leave magical Britain myself. They either love me or hate me, depending on what the Daily Prophet writes that week. I don't want to be part of a society as fickle as that." Hermione really couldn't say much to that, considering that Harry was practically her sole reason for wanting to return. "The problem is," Harry continued, "there are three major factions at play here in wizarding society, and they all want to control me. With my emancipation, Lordships, and alliance with the goblins, the Ministry is no longer a threat to me. That leaves Dumbledore and Riddle."

"That's the so-called Lord Voldemort?" Dan wanted to know.

"Correct. Apparently there is a prophesy that indicates that I am supposed to defeat him. I personally think it's a load of bullshit, but he believes it, and Dumbledore's schemes seem to indicate that he believes it as well. If I'm going to leave I will have to convince them to leave me alone. The problem is twofold. One, Riddle is convinced that he has to kill me. Two, Dumbledore is convinced that I have to face Riddle and kill him."

"I don't think that's his plan," Hermione put in. "From what I overheard, he suspects that Riddle will destroy you, which would still complete the prophesy but leave him vulnerable to someone else."

"Like someone who had already defeated a dark wizard," Harry mused. "Imagine what Albus Dumbledore, vanquisher of both Grindelwald and Voldemort, could do in magical Britain."

"I doubt there's anything he _couldn't_ do," his girlfriend agreed.

The conversation continued long into the night and was resumed the next day. In the end, Harry came up with a plan as daring as it was deadly, but with Dobby's presence there was a good chance of escaping if things turned pear-shaped. Neither of them really liked it because it would mean allowing certain people to get away with deeds that struck too close to home, but if it worked it would eliminate one of the chief obstacles standing between them and a peaceful life. Whether it was successful or not, it was agreed that hiding out on Black Island, which had fully modernized amenities, would be the best way to go, at least until the troubles blew over. The teens also discussed who else could be trusted, and in the end decided that the only friends they were sure about were Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Both were contacted by Dobby and agreed to be brought to the Granger's home, where they were told everything that Harry and Hermione had figured out. Incensed at the callous disregard of their authority figures, they both reluctantly agreed with the plan. Neville suggested the timing of his visit to the Ministry to make sure that everything was done legally, if not necessarily above-board. Dobby also suggested that Harry bond with Winky, the Crouch's former house elf. Her joy at being wanted by the Lord of two Ancient and Most Noble houses was overwhelming, and the chronically depressed house elf immediately perked up and stopped her drinking.

Harry was concerned about Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Both were considered friends, but both were solid members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. Ultimately, though it pained him, he decided not to bring them into his confidence. He knew that neither would deliberately betray him, but he just could not trust that they would keep his secrets from Dumbledore, especially if that old bastard convinced them that it was for Harry's own good.

The goblins were able to provide Harry with a device he requested for the third phase of his plan. He spent some time deep in the bowels of Gringotts to familiarize himself with the device so there would not be any surprises with it. After several hours, he felt reasonably familiar with it so that he did not anticipate any problems.

After another day, all was ready to execute. The elves first took Harry, Hermione, and the elder Grangers to the island, which boasted a mansion that rivalled the most luxurious resorts in the world. While they found rooms for themselves, the elves popped back to England and soon brought the other two teens to the island, along with Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother, and Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna's father. It was decided to leave Neville's parents alone for the moment as removing them from the long-term care ward at St. Mungo's so soon would likely tip their hand that something was going on. They would both be retrieved right before Harry's planned end game.

 **-TPOB-**

Harry walked up the stone walkway to the mansion, a disillusioned Dobby at his side. The elf's orders were to immediately get them out of there the moment they felt threatened by anything. The other teens were shocked, even angry, at Harry's plan, but once he explained his thinking they reluctantly agreed that it could be worthwhile. When he got to the door, he firmly rapped the door knocker.

After a few minutes, the door creaked open. An aristocratic woman with blond hair and a haughty demeanour stood on the other side. Her eyes widened in surprise as she recognized Harry. "You!" she said. "What business do you have here, Potter?"

"Narcissa Malfoy," he spoke quietly. "Good evening. I come in peace to seek parlay with the Dark Lord."

Narcissa looked at him incredulously for a long moment. "Are you out of your mind?" she hissed as she stepped out on the porch and shut the door behind her. "Everyone in there would just as soon kill you as look at you, if it wasn't for the fact that the Dark Lord has reserved that pleasure for himself. With Bellatrix, it's still even odds whether she'd submit to him on that or not. They all know that you are the biggest threat to his rule aside from Dumbledore."

"And it is precisely that fact that I would like to discuss with him."

She gave him a long, unblinking gaze. "Very well. On your own head be your blood."

"Thank you." He extended his wand to her, handle first. "Perhaps this may help allay the concern of the current residents."

Narcissa shook her head but accepted the proffered wand. Turning, she opened the door and gestured for him to precede her into the mansion. Heart pounding despite his apparent calm, he stepped inside.

Ignoring the stares and threatening comments of the Death Eaters they passed, Narcissa led Harry to the room that Voldemort had taken for his throne room and knocked on the door. "Wait here until I tell you to come in," she ordered. Harry answered with a dip of his head.

"Enter," a cold voice Harry would recognize anywhere came from inside.

Lady Malfoy opened the door and immediately dropped to her knees. "My lord, we have an… _unusual_ visitor tonight," she said.

"Oh?"

"Yes, it's…it's Harry Potter."

The reptilian eyes regarded her for a long moment. "Narcissa, if this your idea of a jest I shall be most displeased."

"I assure you, my lord, that it is no jest. Here is his wand. He said he has come to parlay."

"Indeed." After a moment, he chuckled and crossed the room to take the wand. Harry's skin crawled at the sound of his laughter. "Very well. This should be entertaining if nothing else. Show him in."

"Yes, my lord." She smoothly rose to her feet and stepped back, facing Harry. "You may go in," she said, then added, "Good luck."

"Thank you," he replied as he went into the room, closing the door behind him and the unseen Dobby.

"Potter," Voldemort stated as the two regarded each other. "By all rights I should destroy you where you stand, and yet I find myself curious as to why you would willingly come to me."

"Hello, Tom," Harry said quietly as he dipped his head. Noticing the scowl cross Voldemort's face, he held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Please, I assure you I mean no disrespect. Far from it, in fact. I find myself in the admittedly strange position of being able to trust you more than just about everyone else in my life. Because of that, with your permission I would prefer to address you by your given name rather than the name you created to fill the rabble with terror. Likewise, if you wish to address me as Harry, then by all means do so."

Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, gave Harry a long, penetrating gaze. "As you wish," he said at length. "I must admit that my curiosity is piqued even more, and though we remain enemies I suppose that we may yet behave in a civil manner towards each other. So, Harry, would you mind explaining your previous statement?"

"Of course." The young man knew that he was not out of danger – far from it, in fact – but he couldn't help breathing somewhat easier. "Apparently, I am supposed to be this great Saviour of magical Britain and I am supposed to vanquish you, the Evil One. Now, setting aside the sheer ludicrousness of that idea – after all, I'm still in school while you are an experienced and powerful dark wizard – you would think that people would take my role more seriously, don't you think? And yet," here his voice turned bitter, "when the people are not worshipping me, they are cursing my name as a fear-monger and an attention-seeking prat. Meanwhile, I find that some of those whom I have always felt I could depend upon have been lying to me, manipulating me, and outright drugging me in order to use me for their own ends. And so I find myself trusting you, my enemy, more than most all of my so-called _friends_ ," he spat. "At least with you, Tom, I have always been sure of where I stand with you. You have always been honest in your desire to kill me. I don't like that, but at least you've never lied directly to my face."

"I appreciate your candour, and your complement, but I fail to see how that changes the situation between you and me."

Harry took a deep breath. This was it, this next moment is what he was gambling his life on. "I am prepared to swear an Unbreakable Vow with you, stating that I will not interfere in your plans to take over magical Britain in any way, shape, or form; that I will not attempt to harm you or worse in any way, shape, or form; and that I will not attempt to interfere with the lives of your Death Eaters in any way, shape, or form. In return, I ask nothing more than the same courtesy, extended to me, my properties, and a few select individuals."

It was not often that Tom Riddle was rendered speechless, but Harry's request certainly did so. After a long, incredulous moment, he was able to find his voice. "But you're the so-called Chosen One," he said in a not entirely mocking tone.

The young man shook his head. "After all the bullshit and a betrayal that cuts to my very soul, I really don't see where I owe any of them a fucking thing, Tom. I have no desire to fight you or anyone else. All I want is for everyone to leave me the hell alone, and I will be more than happy to return the favour."

"And the prophesy?"

Harry let out a rueful laugh. "It's a crock of shit," he said. "Just another one of Dumbledore's schemes, and this one just happens to have buggered both of us. The so-called prophesy is nothing more than the drunken ramblings of a fraud that couldn't predict the sunrise with any amount of accuracy. Not to mention the fact that Divination as a whole is a ridiculous field. Tell me, if you please, do you know how often a true seer is born?"

Riddle frowned. "It's a rare enough occurrence," he allowed. "Maybe once or twice in an entire generation, if that."

"Precisely. Now, are you also familiar with the way the prophesy spheres work in the Department of Mysteries?"

"Only those referred to directly can even touch the sphere in question, and once fulfilled the sphere goes dark."

"Correct. When I was in the Hall of Prophesy, I saw tens if not hundreds of thousands of glowing spheres. Possibly even millions," he said. "That, coupled with the rarity of those who have the sight, compels me to believe that there are untold numbers of prophesies going back thousands of years that have remained and will remain unfulfilled. From what I have studied, the problems with prophesy occur when people actually pay attention to them. It's far better to ignore them, in my opinion. Thing is, prophesies are so bloody vague that there could be any number of ways to interpret them. Hell, we don't even know if you are the Dark Lord mentioned in this one. It could be Dumbledore for all we know. His behaviour is certainly not that of a Light wizard, I guarantee you that."

Riddle nodded thoughtfully. "I confess that the possibilities that you suggest certainly never occurred to me," he said. "Your analysis is rather intriguing, in fact. It would make my plans that much easier not having to concern myself with what you're doing."

"Even more so when they find out that you and I have reached an accord and I've left the country," Harry added.

"Indeed." Riddle thought for a moment, then nodded again. "If we are to do this, I am prepared to offer you your choice of one hundred people who will be granted amnesty."

"All I want is ten, including myself," Harry said. "Though I would ask that you give the first generation witches and wizards the opportunity to flee the country with their families."

Riddle frowned at this. Harry noticed and smiled. "Come now, Tom, I know you don't believe that pure-blood bullshit any more than I do." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I know that was just a convenient rallying cry for your pure-blood Death Eaters – some of the wealthiest, most arrogant families in Britain, right? I'm sure they gave you all kinds of hell back when you were in school. And now look how they fall all over themselves fawning over a half-blood! Hell, you even convinced them to be branded like cattle! That's the best fucking prank anyone has ever pulled in Britain! As the son and godson of two of the Marauders, I really have to salute you for that. It's very… _Slytherin_ of you."

Riddle couldn't help it. He burst out laughing in genuine mirth, something no one had ever heard before. "Potter," he said between chuckles, "it's a bloody shame you're not on my side. So be it. Who do you want protected?"

"Besides myself, I want Hermione Granger, her parents, Luna Lovegood, her father, Neville Longbottom, his parents, and his grandmother."

"And, of course, your precious muggleborn will have the opportunity to flee in safety along with their families. In exchange, neither of us will ever lift a hand against the other, either directly or by proxy, for as long as we live."

"Including our descendants. It's only fair, after all."

"Yes, yes, including our descendants." Riddle called Narcissa back into the room. After they worked out the wording to their mutual satisfaction, they clasped their hands together and Narcissa bound them both together in an Unbreakable Vow.

Once the ritual was complete, Harry inclined his head. "Thank you, Tom, for your willingness to listen today. This should reduce trouble for both of us."

"I agree. What of Dumbledore?" Riddle asked as he returned Harry's wand.

Harry's expression turned to steel. "I'll give you his fucking head myself."

 **-TPOB-**

The next day, Harry had several hours to kill before he could execute the second phase of his plan. Realizing that the normal wizarding robes would just get in his way, as would the oversized hand-me-downs from his whale of a cousin, he went out to a non-magical shopping mall to get a change of clothes that actually fit for once. He decided to go with what felt comfortable, and left the mall wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt advertising a rock band called Guns 'n' Roses, a pair of comfortable motorcycle boots, and a black leather jacket. His next stop was Gringotts, where he spent the next few hours practicing with the device the goblins had acquired for him, only this time wearing his new jacket. The harness that he used to secure the device could be worn under the jacket with no one the wiser, and he had to admit that he felt more protected for it.

Towards late afternoon, several minutes before the close of the business day, Harry called for Dobby to take him to the Ministry of Magic. He went inside and went to the office of the Keeper of the Records. Inside the office, he could see the secretarial staff finishing up the day's business so they could go home.

"Yes?" a harried witch asked as she looked up from her desk.

"Good evening," Harry said, handing her a sheet of parchment. "Terribly sorry to bother you this late in the day. I just need to file this with the Records department."

"Sure." She snatched the paper from him and stamped it without bothering to read it. She put it in a box labelled _To_ _Be Filed_ before filling out and handing him a receipt. "Anything else?"

"Not today, thank you. Have a good evening." He walked out of the Ministry with a smile on his face and called for Dobby and Winky. Phase Two was complete. The third and final phase was ready to execute. He instructed Winky to retrieve Neville's parents from St. Mungo's and take them to Black Island, and to make sure that she also collected anything and everything they would need to take care of the two patients. After she disappeared, Dobby whisked him away to Hogwarts and his end game.

 **-TPOB-**

The parchment that lay forgotten on a random Ministry worker's desk, officially stamped but not yet filed, contained Lord Harry Potter-Black's declaration of vendetta against Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Ginevra Molly Weasley. For legality's sake he listed the charges of line theft, assault with intent to control using prohibited substances, physical assault with intent to murder the betrothed of a Lord of two Ancient and Most Noble houses, and intent to defraud a Lord of two Ancient and Most Noble houses, or accessory thereof. To Dumbledore's charges he added kidnapping, accessory to physical abuse, and deliberate breach of justice in regards to the wrongful imprisonment of the legal and magical guardian of a Lord of two Ancient and Most Noble houses. Harry had considered adding Ron and Ginny's mother, Molly, to his vendetta, but ultimately decided not to. His intent was to strike before anyone was aware and be gone, only for the resulting investigation to reveal that all was legal if not above board. He also had no desire to declare a blood feud with any of them, as that would require him to annihilate both entire families of Dumbledore and Weasley.

 **-TPOB-**

Dobby appeared with Harry in the entrance hall right outside the huge doors that opened up into the Great Hall. It was dinnertime, when Harry knew all three of his targets would be together in one spot. _This is it_ , he said as he took a deep breath. _This is when everything changes_. "Stand by," he instructed Dobby. With that, he checked to make sure everything was ready before he pushed the doors open and walked into the hall.

Heads started to turn as they saw him enter and the inevitable whispering started, just as he knew it would, especially considering that he'd been gone for several days and was not wearing his normal school robes. As he turned down the middle aisle and approached the head table, where Dumbledore sat on his oversized chair at the centre, in his peripheral vision he noticed Ron stand up from the end of the Gryffindor table and approach him. He kept walking towards the head table, his steps resolute as his former best friend rushed to catch up.

"Harry, mate! Where've you been?" Ron blurted out. "Hey, have you seen Hermione anywhere? She was supposed to meet up with me a few nights ago after class but she never showed up and I haven't seen her since."

It was all he could do to ignore the wanker. Pretending he didn't know what happened to Hermione? The false joviality and inept attempt to be cunning made Harry's blood boil. _Bastard._ Silently gritting his teeth, he kept walking to the head table, sensing Ron following close behind.

"Ah, young Harry," Dumbledore said as the teen approached. "I trust you have a good reason for your disappearance of the past few days."

Without saying a word, Harry slipped his hand under his jacket and drew an old World War II British service pistol from the shoulder holster the goblins had provided along with the weapon and pointed it at Dumbledore's face from a distance of less than three metres. The Colt 1911 model, though originating in the United States, had been a popular sidearm with many of the Allied forces during the war, and this particular one had been designed with the Webley .455 calibre rounds in mind. He knew that most of the magic-users, other than the first gens, would have no idea what a pistol was. Dumbledore's eyes, though, widened in recognition, but before he could react further Harry squeezed the trigger.

The sound of thunder filled the hall, completely drowning out the tinkle of broken glass as the hollow-point bullet shattered the left lens of Dumbledore's half-moon glasses, ripping through his eye and blowing a fist-sized chunk out of the back of his head in a spray of blood, brain tissue, and bone fragments. The old man's body flew back into his seat and slumped there, a look of shock on his face as his one remaining glazed eye stared sightlessly into space. Blood trickled down his cheek from his destroyed eye socket, staining his long white beard crimson.

Stunned silence filled the hall as the echoes faded. Dinner was forgotten, and no one could move. Never in anyone's most fevered imaginings could they have foreseen the great Albus Dumbledore being assassinated by the Boy-Who-Lived, the headmaster's very protégé as far as everyone knew. The only sound was the metallic clinking of the brass cartridge skittering across the stone floor. As soon as he saw Dumbledore fall back into his chair, he spun around, weapon extended, and faced Ron, pistol aimed right between the redhead's eyes.

"M…mate?" Ron stammered.

"Hermione and I were betrothed, recognized by magic, the morning after she was released from the infirmary, after the Department of Mysteries last year," Harry said quietly, giving Ron a meaningful look.

The pure-bloods within earshot gasped as they understood. If their betrothal had been recognized by magic, then there was no way that Ron and Hermione would have ever been together unless unlawful steps had been taken, and the same held true for Harry and Ginny. It took a moment longer for Ron to catch his meaning, but when he did the blood rushed from his face and his eyes grew wide. "Oh shit," he whispered.

"Exactly," Harry said and squeezed the trigger again. Ron's head snapped back as the bullet hit his forehead and he fell lifeless to the floor, a crimson pool spreading out on the flagstones.

"Nooo!" a girl screamed as she lunged to her feet. Harry recognized the sound of Ginny's voice and turned to face her. Shoving fellow students out of the way, she jumped up on the Hufflepuff table and drew her wand, rage and disbelief plastered on her face. "You son of a bitch! _Avada-_ "

Harry squeezed the trigger one last time, the bullet catching her right under her chin and knocking her off the table and flat on her back. He turned back around to face the head table, putting the pistol back in its holster. "Dobby," he called. The elf appeared and stood waiting beside him.

"Oh, Severus," Harry said. The greasy potions master, his face pale with shock, turned away from the carnage to look at him. The young man removed his wand from his coat pocket, calmly snapped it in half, and tossed the two halves to the professor. "Please give this to Tom, with my regards. Tell him everything that happened here tonight, and tell him that I've kept my end of our agreement." Ignoring the stunned expressions from everyone else in the hall, he turned to the house elf at his side. "Let's go," he said, and the two disappeared.

 **-TPOB-**

The sun warmed her body as she lay on the sandy beach of the remote tropical island. All of her broken bones and injures were healed, and even the bruises had faded away. Her brown hair had lightened to dark blond from constant exposure to the sun. She had also developed a lovely tan, which contrasted nicely with the white bikini she now wore. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips as she watched her fiancé emerge from the surf to join her. He dropped a pair of fins, a snorkel, and a mask to the sand beside them before joining her on the oversized beach towel. She handed him his prescription sunglasses and hat before leaning over to give him a kiss. "Hello, love," she said as she took his hand. "Did you have a good time?"

"Always," he said with a smile. "Every time I visit the reef there's something new."

"I'm glad," she replied. "Mum and Dad are fixing lunch right now. I'll go with you afterwards if you'd like to go back out this afternoon."

"Sure," he said, and they relaxed in a comfortable silence, gazing up at the clouds with his arm around her shoulders.

"Do you miss it?" she asked suddenly.

He took his time before answering. "Sometimes," he said. "I hate that any of that rubbish ever happened, but there were some good things that came of it." His arm tightened around her shoulders, telling her exactly what at least one of those good things was. "And you?"

"I don't know," she said. "Everything that I care about is right here, and this time there is no one trying to take it away, nor is there anyone trying to manipulate me into their schemes. I am quite content to remain here as the future Lady Potter-Black, thank you very much." She paused for a moment, looking out over the sea. "Still, I sometimes think about going back, just to see how things are going. Do you think Riddle will honour his end of your bargain?"

"He did swear an Unbreakable Vow," Harry said. "I don't think we'll have to worry about him. Regardless, he'll have his hands full with ruling a country. If his Death Eaters start targeting non-magicals again, eventually the non-magical government will get wind of their actions and put a stop to it – permanently. Wands against rifles? Ha! To say nothing of the snipers – I'd love to see Lucius Malfoy try to fight someone who could end his life from the next county. Or, the magicals will eventually get sick and tired of his oppression and start fighting back. Either way, it's none of our concern. If they're not willing to fight for their freedom, then they deserve everything that happens to them. I, for one, will not risk life and limb to protect people that aren't willing to lift their wand to help stop tyranny. They want freedom, they can bloody well fight for it."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "We've got plenty to keep us occupied for a time, anyway," she said. "I'm sure I'll find a counter-curse for Neville's parents in the Black library soon. Luna has some fascinating ideas about their condition that I'm looking forward to testing."

"Speaking of, how does she like Neville? He's totally smitten with her," he laughed.

"Well, she really enjoys being with him, and I must say that they complement each other wonderfully. Especially with his love of plants and her love of animals."

"We should invite them out to the reef with us sometime."

"That sounds like fun," she said as she got to her feet. "In the meantime, I'm sure lunch is almost ready. Let's go eat."

He gave her a kiss as he stood, one that quickly grew in intensity as they held each other close. "I can't wait to be with you tonight," he whispered as they broke apart. "I love you so much, Mia."

Hermione smiled, her perfect teeth white in the sun. "I love you too, my Harry," she said.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you very much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! It's taken a while, but I have made a couple of small adjustments based on some reviews. The first was replacing "Hermione" with "Miss Granger" in the goblin healer's dialogue, and the second was removing the stipulations for Harry bonding with Dobby. A guest reviewer rightfully pointed out that Harry's primary focus would have been getting help for Hermione (though really, the reviewer needn't have been so boorish in making his point). There have been several requests to complete the story, or share what was happening in Britain in the aftermath. I have deliberately chosen to leave that up to everyone's imagination. I gave some of Harry's thoughts at the end of the story as to how that may pan out, but ultimately the point was about them escaping from Britain and letting magical society implode (or not). Many people liked the inclusion of a firearm, though not everyone did. One reviewer left a well-reasoned argument against such, and while I certainly understand his point (which was about remaining true to the genre) I do have to respectfully disagree. A World War II-era pistol is, in my humble opinion, no more inappropriate than a flying motorcycle is. If Harry had whipped out a plasma cannon, gauss rifle, or lightsaber (without any adequately-explained context) then I would whole-heartedly agree with that being inappropriate to the genre. However, the HP universe has always struck me as having the struggle/blend of the magical and modern nonmagical worlds being one of its many themes.

Over the past year, I have been focusing on a Harry Potter/Call of Cthulhu crossover, and I am pleased to announce that the first draft is complete! It is currently clocking in at almost 115,000 words. I will next be reviewing and editing it, and should start posting it very soon. Thank you once more for reading and reviewing!

AN 2: Thanks to **SpeedisArmour** for pointing out that the Colt M1911 was an American service pistol, not a British one. After a little more research, I learned that the British did use the 1911 as well, but that there was a variant that used the .455 calibre Webley rounds. I decided to use that variant instead of the traditional Webley service revolver because, dammit, I love the 1911 and this way it was still a legitimate option.

Also, I'm sure that most of you have probably found it already, but just in case you haven't, my Harry Potter/Call of Cthulhu crossover, **Descent Into Madness** , is posted in its entirity! I don't mind saying that I'm pretty excited about it, considering that it is my first completed novel-length work. Likewise, I've also posted a silly little one-shot that was the result of a certain YouTube video, multiple discussions with a coworker who is almost as warped as I am, and probably more caffeine than it remotely healthy. If a bit of light-hearted commentary on a quidditch match sounds good to you, check out **A True Gryffindor Keeper** , also found on my profile page. Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing!


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